


I Guess That’s Why They Call it The Blues.

by kriedesaulniers



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol problems, Carol is too stubborn to admit her problems, Carol ‘Captain Obvious’ Danvers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Angst, Slow Burn, Val sees right through her, ValCarol - Freeform, angsty lesbians, friends with benefits?, it takes a while for Carol to admit her feelings, possible lovers?, tags are still hard, this hurt to write, ‘Its just one bottle!’, ’How bad can it be?’
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-06-29 20:40:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19838122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kriedesaulniers/pseuds/kriedesaulniers
Summary: Following the events of Endgame, the snap, losing Tony, letting go of Maria, things are a whole lot harder than Carol Danvers could ever begin to admit. She’s been the beacon of hope for so many people, so what happens when a certain Valkyrie becomes her own?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I know I said I’d try to write more CarolMaria but I suddenly got the idea to do a slow burn for ValCarol. This is literally my second fic ever, that will have updates. But bear with me!
> 
> And yes, the song title is an Elton John song. Fight me. 
> 
> Anyway, Wendy. If you’re reading this, this one’s for you! Since you gave me the idea. To the rest of you? Following the reactions to my last little thing with CarolMaria? I hope you all enjoy! xx

The snap, Thanos, losing a figurehead of an outstanding group of heroes. One of the original six? It changed everyone, everything.

Time became more tangible than ever, like sand that falls into a downturned hour glass, or when it seeps through your fingertips as you scoop it up from the shoreline. 

Each grain was a moment of that time, some held mistakes, others sacrifices, risks. Heroism and Vigilance were the constituents of being an Avenger. Were they all just sand? So fragile, tangible like time? A part of something so much more vast, larger than they ever could begin to realise?

There were those that would ponder this. Sometimes over the bitter sting, yet pungent company of alcohol, or in the sorrowful embrace of solitude. The countless hours of being awake at night, wondering what could have been done differently. Who could have been saved? The repetition of ‘Why them and not me?’

Carol fit the shoes of this conglomerate perfectly, but respectively, she handled it as she could. Took the days one at a time, her achievements with a grain of salt. Salt in a bitter wound she tried to gloss over.

People here, everywhere, still needed her help. She was the blood, the very life-essence of the Avenger Initiative. Without her? It would simply cease to be. 

It was an obligation for her to help people. It always had been, and always would be. It was her life. Long before she could shoot the power of a star from her fists, long before she got her wings in the Air Force, long before she proved the men in her unit wrong. This would always be her. Forever.

Landing in front of New Asgard felt different. The stale, sea-salted air, the strong hardy people she heard Thor speak so highly of, were now seemingly nonexistent. A thing of the not too distant past. Fear had changed them, shaped them to always cower in on themselves. Doubt their unity. What had happened to everyone, everyone on this earth, was a force to be reckoned with. It left damage, some was even permanent. Unable to heal. It was something everyone learned to live with. Carol especially. 

Despite the current aesthetic of her location, The shimmering gold, crimson and deep navy hues of Carol’s suit were a stark contrast to the monotone canvas and dilapidated buildings of New Asgard. It was a beacon of hope to the Asgardians, a fragment of colour in their currently drab existence.

Though, Carol had her own fragment of hope, something that seemingly made everything melt away. Every problem, every doubt that was anchored into her mind would melt away when she would look at her. 

Granted, she wouldn’t ever be Maria. No one would ever be Photon. The woman who put up with her stubborn bullheadedness. Kept her company through some of the worst times of her life, just as she had done for her.

Not a day goes by where Carol tries to visit her, check up on Monica. There are days she selfishly wants to wrap them both in her arms, hold tightly to them and never let go. Keep them for herself, go back to how things used to be. 

Years earlier, Carol would have laughed at that same thought process, those same selfish wants. Time then? It wasn’t so tangible, so thin and transparent. They had all the time in the world, time to raise Monica, time to get married, and grow old. Like the epitome of some cheesy romance flick. 

That part of Carol’s life was stolen away, and did she despise that? Yes. She absolutely hated it. Hated herself. She didn’t have to fly that plane for Lawson, but she chose to.

However, everyone made mistakes, sacrifices. They were all just sand in the hourglass, making up the fragile concept of time.

Carol wasn’t even aware of the movement of her own feet across the stone paths of New Asgard. Her mind was going a mile a minute, she was trapped in her head. Too many thoughts, too many regrets. 

“Aye there, stranger. Beginning to wonder when you’d show up.”

Carol looked up at the owner of the voice, the faintest of smiles creeping onto her lips. “Uh huh. Figure I’d take in the scenery.” She motions to the shoreline behind her, as well as the numerous buildings. 

“Take in the scenery.” 

“Absolutely. So Queen of Asgard now, huh? Do the shoes fit?”

Brunnhilde gives her a once-over as her eyes traipse across her frame. “Not quite. I’m not even sure if I’m actually wearing the shoes.”

A ripple of laughter came between them. Though it much rather sounded awkward, reserved. Unsure. Stale, like the atmosphere of New Asgard.

“You needed my help. It’s here. So what are we doing?” Carol has adopted a forwardness to her tone, though upon closer inspection, she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from Brunnhilde. 

After all, she was the fragment of hope. Her fragment. Every time she’d look at her, the world would melt away. She’d be looking at her. No one else. 

“Twinkle fists? Are you listening to me?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, I was.” Retrospectively, she wasn’t. She was too busy getting lost in the beautiful warrior that was standing before her. 

“Then, what did I say, hm?” 

That’s when Carol could feel the heat crawling up the back of her neck. She didn’t have an answer, because she didn’t hear a damn thing.

“Uhh—“

“Hey..” She shoves Carol’s arm in a jesting manner. “It’s fine. Nothing I can’t say twice.

Anyway...” She breathes out. 

“I just need an extra pair of skilled hands around. Learning my duties as the new Queen take up most of my time.” Her hand goes to rest on Carol’s shoulder, which Carol’s honeyed gaze follows. 

“...Just give the people, well, my people, a hand. They’ve been murmuring about you for a good bit now. I look at them, see something different, and it’s all because of you.”

She was slack jawed for the better half of a minute before she offers a quick nod. 

“Uh huh. Yeah, can do your Majesty.” 

As Carol offers a small bow, Brunnhilde squeezes her shoulder, giving a subtle roll of her eyes. “By the Gods. You know, that’s something I’ll never get used to hearing.”

“Well you know. If the shoe fits—“ Carol trails off.

Val turns on her heel, hiding yet another eye roll, beckoning for Carol to follow. “You know. Before that though, the new casks arrived. I need your galactic palate to taste the new mead.”

This would be something Carol wouldn’t refuse. First of all, it was coming from Val. Second of all, it was probably the finest alcohol she’d ever taste. So she’d absolutely jump at the chance.

“Do you? I gotta say, my palate is pretty varied. Mostly with the piss they served on Hala.” She says with a chuckle.

“Like I said. You’re the perfect candidate for the job. I refuse to let Thor near the casks since the last time. He seems to be okay with that. For now, surprisingly.”

She pushes open the door. “After you.”

Carol steps through into the Mead Hall without a word, simply marveling at the architecture. 

“So. Shall we get started?” There was a cracking sound of a cask opening, and there she stood, two bottles, one in each hand as she offered one to Carol. 

There were a number of things that she thought of between the time she was offered the bottle and as her hand reached out to take it. 

This was a bad idea, a poor choice, but it was one Carol had to make. Needed to make. Everyone was hurting, and aching. This was how she chose to suppress it.

“Absolutely.” 

Just how bad could one bottle of mead be?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One too many bottles lead to something Carol ultimately regrets, but it’s so much more deeper than what it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect light depiction of sexual interactions here! I know the tag says slow burn, but it’s more in reference to them moving on from ‘friends with benefits’ to lovers. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! xx

“I’m telling you...!” Brunnhilde says with a lean over the table, a slight slur to her words.

“The way you took a headbutt from Thanos? Absolutely incredible.” 

She raises the bottle of mead to her in a toast, the liquid spilling over the lip before she takes a long pull from its contents. 

One bottle for each of them soon turned into two, two became three and so on. Both of them seemed to have a drinking problem, and neither of them would be the first to admit it. So here they were, one woman half sprawled across the wood surface of the table, while Carol was slouched back into a chair. 

Lazy eyes floated across the way as she simply admired Val from afar. Somehow she could make looking absolutely plastered seem gorgeous. 

“Nah, you stop that. The way— 

She stumbled over her words. 

—the way you rode in on that Pegasus?” She points to her. 

“That was hot shit.” Carol also takes another pull from her bottle, before discarding it with a toss. The sound of glass shattering could be heard in the distance.

Clearly, all aspects of her coming here to help had been forgotten, though not permanently. This was what Carol craved, needed. The sting of her emotional wounds were still too fresh. It was a constant burn, an incessant cause for heartache. The mind numbing sensation of alcohol? Was the perfect remedy for her ailment. It slowed her down, made all of those worries dissipate from her current existence. 

Brunnhilde’s voice echoed throughout the hall suddenly, pulling her out of the emotional cage in her head like before.

“Carol? Did you just call me hot shit?”

Her voice was like velvet. Strong, commandeering, capable. Though, the way the Warrior Queen was eyeing her now seemed a little more than the casually innocent mirth the either of them were used to.

Admittedly, Carol had a hard time finding words. She was tongue tied, speechless. All she could do was swallow the lump in her throat, the one placed there by the element of being speechless. 

“Carol...” Brunnhilde says again, though it sounded a lot more husky, more so than what would be considered her usual tone. 

Time was slow for that moment, as Carol got lost in thought, and as Brunnhilde stumbled over to her. The room suddenly felt smaller.

_ ‘Danvers...did you just call me hot?’ _

_ ‘Yeah? Maybe I did. What’re you gonna do about it, Rambeau?’ _

Out of the time Carol was deep in memory, Val had stumbled three times in her venture over to her, one of those three she almost fell flat on her ass. 

However, the sudden sensation of Brunnhilde’s hands on her shoulders reeled her back in to reality.

“...I think you did—“

With no warning Val straddled her in the chair, pinning her effortlessly. Their faces were incredibly close, the scent of Asgardian Mead circulating between the two. 

The scent made Carol’s head spin, her body melt beneath the pinning frame of Brunnhilde’s.

Warm breath was soon against her neck, a roll of the other woman’s hips, hands exploring between her thighs.

_ ‘Mm you’re liking this aren’t you, Danvers?...’  _

_ ‘Maria—‘ _

Suddenly her breath was caught in her throat, coming off in a short gasp. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her mouth as dry as desert sands. 

“Carol—

Brunnhilde’s voice of concern echoed in her ears. 

—Are you alright? We don’t have to do this..” Her voice was soft, almost kind.

“Val—

—Let me have this...please..”

Her voice seemed firm, but pleading. She wasn’t sure if she meant her own words either, but that was besides the point currently. 

She desperately craved to feel skin under her palms again, to feel someone’s lips on her own. A connection. Anything. Something to spare her from this impossibly inevitable heartache.

In one movement, Carol scooped the shorter woman into her arms, setting her haphazardly on the table. Their lips connected in heated battle for dominance. Warm hands threading into her short-kept hair, rough tugs stinging her scalp but in the best way possible. 

Her hands settled into the dips of the other woman’s hips, they were foreign, uncharted. She realised within that moment just how much she missed Maria. Just how much she craved the intimacy, the familiarity with her again. How lost she really felt, as her hands roamed over Brunnhilde’s body.

With her lips trailing over the other woman’s neck, placing hot fervent kisses, she pushed the thought of her away. 

With the memory of Maria’s body mapped into her brain, it was being carried out thoughtlessly by her hands, with seemingly no destination. All incorrect, leading to nowhere. 

That was when the tables turned. 

The time between where Carol got lost in her head, Brunnhilde had found her way to the top. She could suddenly feel the sting of the table digging into her thighs, the warrior’s strong hands pinning her wrists to the table.

In that moment, Carol didn’t want to take the reigns anymore. Her drunken stupor and distracted mind eventually won over, and she melted back to the table. 

“Val...please—“

Her voice was rough like sandpaper, her throat dry. She never wanted something so bad in her life, but she knew it was for all the wrong reasons. 

She knew Val would understand. She had to have done this before, the way her hands roamed over her body, touched and lingered over all the right spots, eliciting every heavenly sound from her throat? She had to know what she was doing.

After all everyone made mistakes, and stupid choices. They were all just the sand in the hourglass.

—————————————

As their sweat slicked bodies laid out on soft velvet, Carol couldn’t help but feel a swelling guilt in her chest.

Every touch, every gentle caress, she never recognised it as who it belonged to. It was who she desperately wanted it to be. 

Not once did she think of Val, it was Maria. The time at the airbase, the time when a young Monica was asleep in the nursery in the next room. It wasn’t the mead hall, the rough feeling of the wooden table scraping up her back. It was memories of the past, ones she still couldn’t let go. Ones that she desperately clung to.

The notion itself was vile, wrong. Greedy, selfish. It made her feel sick, or maybe it was the mead. 

The soft touch of a hand brushing against her arm eventually pulled her from her thoughts. 

“You’re sure that was fine?”

“Mhm. Yeah, it was fine. Just thinking about things, y’know?”

Val didn’t buy it for a second, but she knew better than to prod and poke at Carol. She stood up, her naked frame out on display as she shimmied back into her regulated suit. 

“Yeah. What happened took a toll on all of us, Carol. Of course I understand that. Some know how to deal with it, others? Well. You know what I’m talking about.”

She starts for the door to leave her bedchamber, before she turns around to lean against the doorframe. 

Carol and her locked eyes appropriately for the first time that evening, but all that was between them was silence. But like before, everything melted away when Carol returned that gaze. Something in her heart soared every time, but it scared her. Terrified her.

“What?” Carol questions. 

“Nothing at all, twinkle fists.” There was a faint smile on Brunnhilde’s lips. “Listen. Just meet me outside when you’re ready. We need to get things moving. A lot is expected from us. You especially.” 

It was the truth. Many of the Asgardians saw Carol as their chance at something new. A path of redemption. Someone who could fix what was broken. 

Carol however, saw that same thing in the woman before her. That smile, those warm brown irises. She was just too afraid to let go, afraid to move on. Too scared to admit it.

“Uh huh. Got it, Val. Go on ahead, I’ll see you in the next couple of minutes.”

As Carol leaned over to the bedside, she grabbed her control device, slipping it over her wrist. Val had departed shortly after, once Carol began to toy with the controls.

_ ‘Where’s your head at?’ _

She could hear the faint echo of Maria’s voice in her mind. That same phrase, all too familiar yet so very distant.

As she tried to clear her head, she pressed a few final things on the panel, the nanites of her suit rematerialising over her body. 

The suit. It used to be something she was proud of. Now? It was something she hated. Something that carried too many memories. The turmoil she had with herself offered little in terms of relief. 

Relief. It was just a far fetched dream now. Something near non-existent. For the Asgardians, Everyone. Carol especially. But it was something Carol was determined to give to everyone else, even before she could give it to herself.

She was always going to be that same woman. The one that helped everyone. The one who risked it all, regardless of all the wrong choices she made. 

Everyone made bad choices to cope, had moments they weren’t proud of. 

Ultimately? This was one of Carol’s worst. One she wholeheartedly despised. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Chapter 3 should be up tomorrow, or tonight! Depends on how I’m feeling. The goal is to try and update everyday. But, the person I have to beta read my story isn’t always available around the time I finish. So in advance, I apologise for inconsistency. 
> 
> Hope you all are enjoying this so far! xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol finally manages to help with the clean up efforts in New Asgard. Val provides her with some comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has nothing specific as far as content warnings go. However, this chapter significantly longer than its predecessors. 
> 
> I hope you’re all enjoying this roller coaster ride of a fic! xx

Regret, guilt. It became incredibly tangible to Carol within that amount of time. Her head was pounding still from the mead, but she tried her best to ignore it. 

Every time she’d look at Val, she’d see Maria. Every time she’d say something, her brain wired it back to a memory. Something so personal, something so close to her heart that it hurt every time it crossed it her mind.

But moving on was letting go, even if it was hard. It was never easy. Carol knew that, everyone did. It was just harder when you were the one moving on, not helping others get through that loss. That inevitable pain. 

“Aye! Finally made it out of bed I see—“

Carol’s feet dragged across the stone pavement, everything was slow. She was distracted, mentally preoccupied. She wondered if her other subjects knew what happened the night before. Her skin crawled just thinking about it, but somehow, she yearned for it again.

As she looked at Brunnhilde, she noticed how those brown irises looked at her with concern. She felt exposed suddenly. So, she fell into her habit of adopting defensive humour.

“Yeah, I was debating on moving my ass out of there, almost wanted to fall back asleep, but here we are.” She offered a halfhearted laugh, though it came off much more as hollow sounding. Not the usual mirth-filled laugh the other woman was used to hearing.

“At least you keep to an agenda. When I’m hungover, I say ‘fuck it’ and call it a day.”

“You would.” 

That caused a more livelier laugh to ensue between the pair, though on Carol’s part it still seemed hesitant. 

Brunnhilde could tell the difference between Carol’s genuine laugh and defensive laugh. Not many people could discern the difference, but this was where they seemed to have common ground, respectively. She knew what it was like.

“Alright, so...”

Brunnhilde rubs her hands together, her eyes surveying the debris that was scattered amongst the slum-like buildings within the radius.

“I need you to start by cleaning up there.” She points to the rubble and crumbled mortar. “I’m sending a couple of my stronger men to help you. Just so you don’t have to shoulder the clean up by yourself.”

“You know...” Carol retorts. “I think I’m stronger than you and your two men combined. Do you really think I need two extra pair of hands?” 

She gave the Binary being a quick glance, her brow furrowing slightly before she set her hand on her shoulder. 

“I do think you need the two extra pair of hands, yes. Even if you’re stronger, I’m not letting you get out of it just to work alone, Carol.”

She knew where it was stemming from. Carol’s desire to be left alone and to her own devices. Mainly, her own head. Val wasn’t quite sure what had Carol in such a funk, but she would go to any length to make sure someone kept her on her toes when she couldn’t. Keep her distracted.

Carol wanted to shoot back with something witty, something that would let her get the opportunity to work alone, but it just wasn’t coming out. She knew she couldn’t combat with Val.

A vehement sigh fell from her lips. 

“Okay, okay. Fine. Whatever you say—“

There was a deliberate pause as Carol’s lips turned up into a smirk. “—your Majesty...”

Like the time before when Carol has used her newfound title, Brunnhilde couldn’t hold back the roll of her eyes that ensued. 

“You’re just saying that to annoy me at this rate.”

“Oh absolutely. But something tells me you’re loving it.”

“You know, last night you seemed to love something else a whole lot more.” 

Carol suddenly went the slightest shade of pink, biting her bottom lip. 

“And what about it?” She questions. 

“Absolutely nothing, twinkle fists. Just giving you a hard time. When you’re done with that, Come find me.”

And with that, Val made her departure for that moment in time. Leaving Carol to clean up the scattered debris. Not too long after that, the two men that were promised as help arrived. They already received their instructions, so they paid no mind to Carol. They let her get her work done.

As she bent over, she picked up a crumbled piece of mortar, not much larger than her, tossing it effortlessly to the side.

Her mind however had other ideas, as it began to wander. Though her body still stayed on its current task.

_ ‘Carol? Where’s the hammer?’ _

_ ‘Need something to bang? You know, you do have me for that.’  _

_ ‘Danvers. This is serious. I’m trying to hang a picture of you and Monica.’ _

_ ‘Oh? And you think I’m not being serious?’ _

The moment their lips connected in the memory, Carol realised her eyes had closed for that moment. The sun that pierced her irises felt all too bright. Her lips felt dry, kiss starved. That’s all it was. A memory. It wouldn’t ever be real again. That’s what pained her the most.

Every moment she had in the confines of solitude, it was spent thinking of Maria. She knew it was torturous to herself, but time had its way of working. She was just riddled with impatience, the healing process, paired with her stubbornness made it much longer than she would have liked. Though, she only brought this on herself.

Pushing that memory away, a hand swiped through her short hair. The sun of New Asgard finally decided to peek through the grey overcast clouds.

Maybe things would get better. Carol knew the expression ‘Time heals all wounds.’ God. She knew it all too well. She knew it how she knew every crevice, every dip in Maria’s hips. Every touch that would cause her back to rise from the bed. 

She understood letting go was hard, but she never thought it would be so emotionally draining. At least not like this. 

Placing the last few fragments of debris in the pile, Carol gave a dismissive wave to the help she had. 

“It’s finished. We’re done. Thanks for your help.” 

The two men simply nodded to her, and went their separate ways. 

Carol found herself alone again. She swallowed hard as a hand rubbed over the back of her neck. She knew she was supposed to seek Val out after she finished the clean up, but she didn’t want to be that burden. She didn’t think she could look at her so soon. Not after what happened. Sure it was mutual, and Carol craved it the more it crosses her mind, but it was wrong.

She didn’t want to waste her time, feel like she was only using her for some form of emotional relief. It was so much more than that, but Carol was too chicken to admit it. 

She found herself meandering over to the shoreline. The dock to be specific. The sunset was what drew her there. The tangerine tones contrasting to the grey stagnant waters, the way they slammed up against the rocky outcropping of the shoreline. It was the definition of serenity for Carol. It wasn’t space, of course. But it was a close second to being amongst the stars and the vacuum of space. 

Sitting down, the wood of the dock graced her palms. It was ancient, dampened with the salt of the sea. Gripping into the sea-battered wood, she looked out over the warm, peachy coloured horizon.

_ ‘Isn’t it pretty?’ _

_ ‘What’s pretty, you?’ _

_ ‘Carol. I’m talking about the sunset.’ _

_ ‘Oh that? Absolutely. I like to think you’re prettier though.’ _

_ ‘Jeez, thanks. But...you’ll always be here right? For Monica and I? You aren’t gonna go anywhere?’ _

_ ‘Never. I’ll always be here for you and Lieutenant Trouble. Always.’ _

“Carol?”

The feeling of a hand on her shoulder reeled her back from that memory. That other plane she so desperately wished that existed. As her eyes travelled up, they locked into Brunnhilde’s

“Hey.”

“You never showed up after you finished. Somehow, I thought you’d be out here. Either that or the dingy Tavern. Though, I’m feeling that it’s better I found you out here instead.”

Brunnhilde takes a seat beside her, as they stare out over the water for a moment in silence. She can tell Carol has a quite few things on her mind. Her usual chipper attitude would have made it’s appearance by now, but it was yet to be seen. 

“Look—“ Val decides to break the silence. 

“—you seem to have a lot on your plate. Whatever that might be, you can tell me. Not now of course, but the offer will always be available for you.”

Carol squeezes the wood of the dock beneath her palms even harder. She wished Val wouldn’t take pity on her. It was her choice, her decision to put herself through this emotional turmoil. Even if it was supposed to be for the better.

Instead of shooting back, she forces out a passive response. “Yeah. Thanks, Val.” 

Now, this was where Valkyrie would have said her peace. Insisted that Carol should speak up. The odds of her getting an answer, though? It’d be like trying to get it out of a wall. It simply wouldn’t happen. After all, it took a while to take a wall down. Dismantle it fully, completely. 

“Yeah. Anytime, Carol.”

If there was one thing Brunnhilde was good at, it was loyalty. She’d always be there for Carol. In any way that she needed her to be. She knew that Carol would speak up when she was ready. Of that, she had no doubt at all.

As she stood up from the dock, she offered Carol a hand. 

“We should probably head inside. The cold can get a little much.”

Carol glances between her hand and her eyes before she decides to take ahold of it. The touch felt warm, inviting. Even though this was a repetitive feeling, it made her heart pound. The sound echoed in her ears. 

“You think so? You do know I radiate warm energy, don’t you?”

“You’re asking me if I knew that? You radiate more than just warm energy throughout your body, Carol. That, I know.”

Just like that, they began to fall back into that steady, mirth-filled banter. 

“Well. At least you pay attention.” Carol says with a small chuckle. 

It was a sound Brunnhilde missed. Hearing it though? In this circumstance? It sounded impossibly sweet. 

“You know me, twinkle fists. I always do.”

———————————

After their venture back to Val’s bedchamber, they found themselves stripping down, though Carol’s was much more at the touch of a button, and she was dressed in comfortable clothing a whole lot quicker. 

Now, Val has always been open with her comfortableness of being naked. This was evident as she engaged in conversation with Carol as she stripped herself of her regulated suit. 

“So today was boring. Meetings, speeches, important talks.” She shimmies out of her pants, the fabric gathering around her ankles as she steps out. 

Carol however? Refused to look at her. Instead, she toyed with a loose thread on her shirt as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“It really makes me wonder how Thor didn’t cave from how many idiots he was surrounded by.” Her top was the next to come off, and thankfully Carol’s gaze was occupied elsewhere as Val always decides to let her top half go commando.

She’s rummaging through her dresser now, in search of a top to sleep in for the evening. She decided to forgo wearing pants. 

Noticing Carol hadn’t said so much as a peep, she glances over her shoulder at her. 

“Twinkle fists? Are you listening?”

Carol suddenly looked upward, seeing the defined muscles of her back. A lump in her throat began to rise, and she swallowed lightly. 

“Uh huh. I heard you. Queenly duties and whatever. Sounds tough.”

Val pulls a simple grey tee shirt from the dresser as she closes the drawer. Pulling the tee shirt over her head, she turns around before tugging it down over her frame. 

“Tough doesn’t even begin to describe it. It really doesn’t.” She says with a small laugh.

Carol looks up at her now, and Val locks eyes with her. The action alone was one of intimacy, a heartfelt notion. It was safe to say that both of them held feelings, and one was far more comfortable with that fact than the other.

“Uh...” Carol bit her bottom lip, her eyes diverting for a moment before finding their way back to her. “You know, never mind. It’s been a long day. I think...” She pauses. 

“I think I’m just tired.”

“Yeah. It’s been that way for the both of us I think.”

Val makes her way to her side of the bed, before Carol gets comfortable in hers. 

They both lean back in sync, both of their gazes falling up to the ceiling. 

Within that silence there was so much to say, yet so little would come out from either of them. It would be the kind of conversation that would fill the emptiness, the awkward words, the ones that tried to lessen the weirdness and only made it worse. 

Val was the first one to break the ice, facing the wall as she turned her back to her, turning off the lamp at the bedside.

“Good night, Carol.” 

“Yeah.” Carol murmured back, her eyes still focused on the ceiling. “‘Night, Val.”

There was so many things going through Carol’s mind as the darkness of the room surrounded them. The first time she shared a bed with Maria, the last time. There was so much Carol wanted to say to Val, but she couldn’t.

She knew that she would be able to say all those things eventually, get everything she needed to off her chest. She knew it would bring so much relief. In order to do that, though? She had to move on. That? Was what scared her the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! What a wild ride this little fic is turning into! 
> 
> Fourth chapter might come tomorrow! Or the day after. So far updating has been consistent and I hope it stays that way. 
> 
> Anyway, leave your thoughts as always. They’re appreciated! xx


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Val attempts to stage an emotional intervention for Carol to make her heartache a whole lot less. Things don’t go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This chapter will be from Val’s point of view. I’d also like to say Chapter 5 will go back to Carol’s point of view. 
> 
> I do plan to let both sides of the coin be seen though. For future updates, expect that! Enjoy! xx

_Don't wish it away_

_Don't look at it like it's forever_

_Between you and me I could honestly say_

_That things can only get better_

Val never really had experienced the loss Carol had gone through. She knew about Maria, she knew how much she meant to Carol. Gods sakes, they raised a child together. They were engaged, and just like that? It was all stolen away from her.

It’s those nights where Carol thinks she’s asleep, she can see her fiddling with the worn engagement band, the way her fingertips caress it in the reflection of the armoire mirror. The dusky silver that’s lost it shine, from how many times her fingertips had brushed over the ring. The movements alone are filled with an ache, a steady stream of pain. It served as a totem for her sometimes. Others? It only offered a trip of guilt and insurmountable burden. That much Brunnhilde understood.

Still. She had lost sisters, had bonds ruined, so the concept of her understanding wasn’t too far off.

Turning over on her side, she’s facing Carol. Watching her sleep beside her, it’s peaceful, serene. It’s that slice of a Zen moment that makes Brunnhilde feel that familiar, yet relatively new flutter in her chest. It’s a welcome feeling, but it’s not one that comes without slight hesitancy.

Her hands seem to have a mind of their own as they extend slowly, going out to caress the soft skin of Carol’s cheek.

However, her brain is one step ahead and she shrinks back, rolling onto her back with a tired sigh.

This garners a mumble from Carol as she tosses in her sleep, mumbling something indiscernible. Though to her it sounds something more like, ‘Five more minutes.’

With an airy chuckle, Brunnhilde shifts in the bed.

“You know. It’s still early. I wouldn’t see anything wrong with five extra minutes.”

This causes a tired groan to fall from the binary being, as she pulls a throw pillow over her face.

“I meant five hours—“

“Five hours of sleep? Or five hours of choice exercise?” Val didn’t have to specify, because the throw pillow was lazily tossed aside as she received a narrow-eyed squint from Carol.

“Val—“

“Hey, hey. I’m joking. For the most part.”

The look she offered Carol after that was soft, genuine. Supportive. 

Brunnhilde could tell that Carol would need all the support she could get, even if it was going to require her to go to lengths she wouldn’t go for anyone else. Not even Thor.

This was Carol we’re talking about, after all. She would bend over backwards for Carol. In more ways than one, that was for sure.

“Well. There’s still a bit more we’ve got to get done.” She says as she rises from the bed. The curves on her hips were now on display, she could’ve sworn she could feel Carol’s eyes lazily, but reservedly, checking her out.

“Mm..yeah? Well...I’m not doing anything without coffee first, Ma’am—“ Carol’s chipper attitude always seemed to be more present in the early hours of the morning or the late hours in the evening. There wasn’t ever a commonplace or in between.

“Only if you agree to trying it my way.”

“It depends on what that is.” Carol says, before it’s followed with a yawn.

“Gods. Stop that.” She waves her off. “I just nearly finished yawning for myself.”

Without warning she strips off her shirt, her chest on full display. Clearly, she’s decided to change into her suit for the day.

“Val, Jeez!” Carol quickly diverts her gaze and stands, pressing a few buttons on the panel she placed on her wrist. Her own suit materialising over her body.

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen, Carol. I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of tits in your time.”

“Yeah. Well. Not really...just twice.”

Brunnhilde immediately regrets her statement, but doesn’t remark on it.

“You said you wanted coffee, right? Well come on, then.”

She shimmies into her pants, and the rest of her clothes before she motions for Carol to follow.

Brunnhilde often wonders what goes through Carol’s head on a daily basis. Perhaps a morning conversation over coffee would offer some insight.

“So what’s your special recipe?”

“What?” Brunnhilde questions before she realises what Carol is asking.

“Oh, that? You’ll have to wait and see. I think Thor already has a pot brewing. He’s usually good about that.”

And sure enough, as they made their way to the common room, the strong aroma of brewed coffee graced their noses. Thor seemed to have already left, a single pot of coffee was placed on the stone countertop. Two cups were also a part of the mix.

Brunnhilde added the dark energizing liquid into the mugs, pulling out a silver flask from the confines of her jacket.

Carol leans against the counter, raising a brow. “Really, Val? That’s your secret? Where’d you pick that up?”

“You know. Thor spent time on Midgard, he learned it from Stark.” She hands her a mug that now held the addition of whiskey. Val took a sip from her own mug once Carol took hers.

Surprisingly, Carol didn’t hesitate. She took the mug, letting the aroma of black coffee and whiskey surround her before she took a sip. Her brow furrowed after that. She didn’t seem too overly fond of the extra punch added to her caffeine.

“Not a fan?” Brunnhilde muses.

“No. Not really. That’s definitely a Tony thing.”

As Carol sets her mug aside, Val took it upon herself, adding it to her own mug.

“Anyway. Like I said. There are a few things that we need to get done.”

“That _we_ need to get done?” Carol inquires.

“That’s what I said. We’ll be a team today. Just don’t get distracted, twinkle fists.”

She tosses a wink her way, and Carol rolls her eyes in response.

“You know, if you roll them any harder, they’ll fall out of your head. Don’t expect me to play Surgeon. That’s more Strange’s thing.”

Brunnhilde tosses the mug back, wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve. Ah, yes how very Queenly of her.

“Well. Let’s go, then. Better to start early than not at all.”

——————————

As the sun peeked over the horizon, the pair were making a trek up the cliffside that overlooked the grey stagnant waters of New Asgard.

“So. Why are we here again? I thought we had work to do...” Carol was always twelve steps ahead. It was hard to surprise her. Or in Brunnhilde’s case, stage a sort of emotional intervention.

“It’s part of the work. I know you’re ex-military, Carol. But try not to be so questionable.” She looks back over her shoulder at her.

“You trust me don’t you?”

“You know. Maybe now that we’re looking over a cliff with crashing waves 15 feet below us, I might have to reconsider.” Carol teases.

That’s when Val takes a seat in the grassy outcropping, legs dangling carelessly over the edge. Carol hangs back, hesitantly.

“You know, Carol...I don’t bite. Not unless you’d want me to.”

Carol sighs heavily at the very poor, but amusing semantic as she takes a seat beside her.

Now. Brunnhilde will never be able to understand the emotional pain Carol has gone though, had gone under so much duress for. It will never be to the same extent, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t willing to try and able to sympathise.

She can tell she’s in pain, suffering. She notices her hand go to the pocket of her suit, somewhere that she can only assume holds the worn engagement band.

As she looks out over the sea, Brunnhilde can see the forlorn expression Carol has adopted. She seems to be thinking, caught in the fragile depths of her mind. Locked into that emotional cage.

That’s when she takes her hand, relishing in the natural warmth that radiates from the binary being’s palm.

“Carol—“ She stresses, while holding steady to her hand.

“—I know that things have been hard for you, and I know letting go of Maria isn’t easy like you thought it would be.”

“I don’t...I don’t know what you’re talking about.” There’s an apparent edge to Carol’s voice, it sounded fearful almost. 

“Carol. You’re hurting, that’s okay.” If only Brunnhilde could listen to her own words. Funny how that works.

“I’m here for you. Always will be..”

Carol suddenly pulls her hand away and swallows hard. “No. You don’t understand.”

Her voice is quivering now, shaking with all the regrets and guilt that she’d been bottling up. It almost pained Brunnhilde to bear witness, and made her feel the slightest bit of guilt for bringing it out of her.

Carol needed this though, right? She needed this intervention. It had to help her. It needed to. Brunnhilde didn’t want to seem selfish, but she hated seeing her so broken. She knew the capability of her, how much of a light she was for other people. Including herself. She needed Carol to be okay again, before the heartache ruined her permanently.

“Val. You don’t, you _don’t_!” Carol’s voice was breaking as she spoke. Before she could intervene Carol had already stood up and began to charge away.

“Wait, Carol!”

“No.” Carol stops mid stride, her voice articulate and cold, full of pain and anxiousness.

“ _Don’t_. Stop. Just stop it, okay You _can’t_ waste your time fixing what’s broken—

—Only _I_ can fix me!” She offers Val a cold, teary eyed glare before she furiously rubs at her eyes.

“Carol I—“

Before Brunnhilde could finish her sentence, Carol was gone. Up in the atmosphere of the sky. Leaving a gust of air in her wake, she ultimately left the Warrior Queen alone. Save for the thoughts and regrets she had in her head.

There’s a time when someone realises just how much they miss another, and that couldn’t be any more apparent than it was in this current moment. She knew she had royally fucked up. No pun intended.

However, where ever Carol had gone to for a scapegoat, she knew she’d be back. It was the look in her eyes. The split second before the takeoff, the way their worlds both seemingly stopped, connected then were torn apart. Brunnhilde knew she needed this, and who would she be to stop her? She was loyal to everyone. Carol was no exception.

_And while I'm away_

_Dust out the demons inside_

_And it won't be long before you and me run_

_To the place in our hearts where we hide._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: unfortunately, due to college I have postponed this fic and will list it as finished for now. I will plan to end it with an appropriate closer once I have the time for it. (making it only 5 chapters) Until then, it'll remain on a cliffhanger. I just want to thank everyone for the support this story has received. I'm blown away that it's reached nearly 900 hits. Thanks again! xx


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